


Visit

by Starwolf69



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley missing Freddie, Kidfic, M/M, Mild Language, Sad Crowley (Good Omens), but so is one of the parents, is it still a kid fic if this kids are snakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25274632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starwolf69/pseuds/Starwolf69
Summary: Crowley spends some times visiting with an old friend.  The snildren learn a bit about the hard part of loving mortals.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73
Collections: Wiggleverse





	Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. Crowley's friend is who you think it is. Queen forever!

It was November and, as it was every November for the past twenty years, Crowley was depressed. It started with just a low-grade level of sadness that grew and grew into a crippling depression. By the end of the month, the demon was back to normal. Aziraphale always was a little extra loving during that time as he tried to comfort his husband.

As the children got older, they began to notice their father’s depression that came at the same time every year. They tried to be extra good and did little things to try to make him happier. However, all they typically received was a sad smile and a pat on the head. They worried about him but knew if there was something really wrong with him, Azirafather would fix it. 

One morning, toward the end of the month, Crowley sat at the kitchen table, brooding over his coffee. He sighed and shifted in the chair. Aziraphale sat next to him and took his hand.

“It’s been a while since you visited,” the angel murmured quietly. “Maybe you should go for a visit. You always felt better in the past.”

Crowley nodded and drank his coffee in one gulp. He stood slowly and gazed at his angel. Aziraphale rose and kissed his husband’s nose lightly before getting a bottle of wine and handing it to Crowley. 

“Can’t go empty-handed,” he said softly. “You . . . You’ll be home tonight?”

Crowley pulled him close and nuzzled his neck. “Always, Angel. Can’t sleep without your knee in my back.”

Aziraphale laughed gently. “I love you, Anthony J Fell-Crowley.”

“As I, you, AZ Fell-Crowley,” the demon answered. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Be careful.”

The demon headed out the door, bottle of wine in hand, and was tearing out of the driveway in moments. Aziraphale watched him go, his mind drifting.

“Azirafather?” Rosa asked from behind him. “Where is Father going?”

“To visit an old friend,” the angel answered. “So we are on our own for the day.”

KENSINGTON, SEVERAL HOURS LATER 

Crowley slid the Bentley into a space in front of a familiar house. He sighed softly and sat for a few moments. Grabbing the bottle, he got out of the car and made his way to the back garden. Slowly picking his way across the garden, he approached a flowering tree in the very back of the garden. He knew that no mortal would question him being there; he had visited before. 

“Uh, hi,” he said softly as he faced the tree. “S’been a while since I’ve been here, I know. Just . . . you know . . . It’s hard.”

He sat down, awkwardly messing with the wine bottle. He was quiet for a while, just being in the space. With a soft sigh, he opened the wine and took a deep drink. He poured a little at the base of the tree. Settling in cross-legged, he sighed softly.

“So, um, Aziraphale and I finally got together. Got married and everything. Bought a house in the South Downs. You were right. I was revoltingly in love with him for a long time. Just too cowardly to act on it.” 

He took another long drink and continued. “Got five kids. Crazy, right? I thought so too, but I can’t imagine life without them. I got pictures.”

Pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket, he flipped through until he found the photos of the children that he always carried with him. He smiled as he looked at them. He laid the photos out in front of him on the ground before the tree. 

Pointing at the photo of Rosa, he said, “This is Rosa. She’s so smart. She reads everything she can get her hands on. Just like my Angel. Better like him than me, huh?”

“This is Angelica,” he said picking up another photo. “My little Spitfire. She’s a demon on the soccer pitch and isn’t afraid of anything. Rosa is our little negotiator; Angelica is a wrecking ball. Nothing gets in her way, especially her brothers.”

He took another drink and pointed at a picture of a thick, young snake. “That’s Clem. He prefers to be a snake most of the time. He thinks legs are tricky. I guess they are, even though you and I never had a problem, eh? He’s our quiet one. Still waters, am I right? Oh, that’s right, I forgot to tell you that they were all born snakes. From ping pong balls. Bad practical joke with an angel that doesn’t get practical jokes. They can become snakes at will – like me. Guess it’s okay to tell you that.”

Crowley tipped his head back as the breeze caressed his face. He gave a tiny smile and pointed at another picture.

“This is Datura. Sweet Tura. You would have loved them. I . . . I think you would have been a good influence on them. It’s hard being different. Angel and I do our best but sometimes kids need someone outside of the family to talk to about . . . things. I think you would have been that person for Tura. Poor kid. They look like me. They are a brilliant mechanic; they can fix just about anything they set hands to.”

Pointing at the last photo, he smiled and said, “That is Anthony Junior. My little double. He’s so clever but is a little reckless. Wonder where he gets that from, huh? Yeah. Know what? One of his middle names is for you. Cool, right? He picked it himself. Said he knew that we were great friends and felt it was right. Nearly made me cry. He’s a good kid though. I think you would have loved them all. You would have been a great uncle, know that?”

Crowley sat quietly for a while, listening to the sounds of the garden as he finished the bottle of wine. He slowly tucked the photos back in his wallet and shifted to lie on the ground next to the tree. He felt the overwhelming sadness wrap around him. He knew he had to leave soon, but he just couldn’t make his body move. 

“I miss you so much,” he whispered, choking back a sob. “I’m sorry I stayed away for so long. I just . . . I couldn’t. It hurt too much. I get really depressed around this time every year. Aziraphale said that maybe being here with you would make me feel better. But I don’t feel better. I miss you so fucking much! You . . . you would have been my best man at my wedding. You never got to meet my angel! There’s so much that you missed. It’s not fair!”

Tears leaked from his eyes and soaked into the ground. He cried softly for a while, finally pushing himself up to sitting and wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. He sniffled hard and pulled a shaking smile. 

“I probably look like shit now,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes again. “Didn’t mean to get all . . . blubbery on you. But I do miss you, my friend. So. Much. You were my best human friend ever.”

Crowley stood slowly and cleared his throat. “Guess I should be going. The ball-and-chain expects me back for dinner. I’ll come back to visit again. And I won’t wait so long next time. I promise. Maybe I’ll bring my Angel and the kids. I know you’d love them. I’ll see you around, yeah? I . . . love you, man.”

He made his way back through the garden to where the Bentley waited patiently for him. He settled in behind the wheel and started the engine. 

“Come on, old girl, let’s go home.” 

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

“Azirafather, why does Father get sad this time of year?” Junior asked while they had their tea.

The angel was quiet for a moment. “Darlings, mortal lives are short, much shorter that ours. Because we are so long lived, we lose those we love. Father lost someone who was very important to him.”

“Was that person old?” Angelica asked.

Aziraphale shook his head. “No. He passed from a terrible disease that took people when they were in the prime of their lives.”

“Father . . . loved him?” Rosa asked, her voice trembling. “Like love-loved him?”

“No, my love,” Aziraphale comforted gently. “They were just very good friends. Best friends. Father wasn’t ready to let him go when his time came. That’s why he is sad. He misses his friend and this is the time of year that he died.”

“Did you know father’s friend, Azirafather?” Datura asked.

“No, we never met,” Aziraphale said. “But, from all your father has told me about him, I feel like I know him.”

“Will Father be okay?” Junior asked.

“He will,” Aziraphale said, nodding. “We just need to let him know that love him and are here for him no matter what.”

They heard the Bentley pulling into the driveway. Aziraphale stood, watching the back door expectantly. Crowley strode in, tossing his glasses on the kitchen counter. His eyes were puffy and red – he had clearly been crying on the way home. The children leapt up and raced to hug the demon. Crowley looked at Aziraphale questioningly as he was hugged from all angles. He patted and hugged the children, finally detaching himself to greet his husband with a little kiss.

“Did you have a good visit?” Aziraphale asked softly.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Feel better?”

“I will.”

Rosa said, “Father? I’m sorry about your friend.”

Crowley tipped his head to the side and looked at her. “Th-Thank you, darling.”

“I’m sorry you’re sad,” Datura told him, hugging Crowley again. 

“What’s all this?” Crowley asked.

“Azirafather told us about your friend,” Angelica told him. “And that’s why you are sad. We love you, Father.”

“As I love you, spawn,” he said, putting his arms out and pulling his children close. “Someday I’ll tell you all about him. He would have loved you all so much.”

For the rest of the evening, Crowley found himself the center of the children’s attention. He and Aziraphale got them ready for bed before settling in for the evening. Crowley cuddled close to his angel. Aziraphale gently stroked his hair and the demon snuggled as close as possible. 

“Thank you for suggesting that I go today, Angel,” the demon said softly. “It was a nice visit.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, why is Crowley talking to a tree? While no one, aside from one person knows exactly where Freddie Mercury is resting, one rumor is under a tree at his home in Kensington. I went with it. 
> 
> Thanks to OlwenDylluan for the encouragement and Kedreeva for the sandbox!


End file.
